


A Bit of Sunshine

by DragonRider1



Series: On Brigs, Booty, and Big Boats [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonRider1/pseuds/DragonRider1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke has been worried about Bethany since he left her and taken to the sea with Isabela. After hearing about the escalating war between mages and Templars, he wants to do his best to protect the last of his family. Isabela comes to realize it is as much her family to protect, as Hawke's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Sheets to the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some more fluff and romance in my series. Plus it is kinda of a setup for my next smut fill, but sadly no straight out smut **planned** for this one. _That might be subject to change..._

Isabela stopped in the doorway, leaning into it and watching her dear lover and cabin boy. He was setting on the bed with his long red hair pulled out of his face and held back by a leather band, while yellow eyes ran over the words on the pages in his hand. 

“Anything interesting?” Isabela walked into the cabin, sitting down in her favorite chair at the head of the table and throwing her head over one arm and her legs over the other. She watched Hawke and waited for an answer, huffing as he continued to ignore her. “Hawke!” 

“Hmm?” Hawke's eyes remained on the paper in his hand, his usual playfulness not even surfacing. It worried Isabela, especially as this distance had continued to grow. She was the one who usually had a hard time connecting, she had no idea how to resolve it by herself. 

“What is it?” Isabela was sure her voice was too soft and Hawke wouldn't hear her again, she was surprised when he answered. 

“Bethany's last letter. The one about settling near Cumberland, Merrill coming to stay and learn for a bit, Malcolm's being good and guarding her well.” Hawke sat the letter down and ran his hand through his hair, he leaned his head back against the hull with a sigh and stared at the ceiling. “Varric said he caught a glimpse of her on their way to Orlais—I'm worried Bela, he said the Circles are bad. The Templars are revolting against the Chantry—Bethany has never been on the run by herself.” 

Isabela wrung her hands together in her lap, she let out her own sigh as she lifted herself from the chair. She slowly made her way to the bed and crawled onto it, settling herself in Hawke's lap. His arms immediately wrapped around her, pulling her close and Isabela lazily wrapped her own arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his. Hawke's far off look, focusing in on her instead. 

“She's not alone, she's got Kitten and your loyal, slobbering companion.” 

“Merrill might be in a danger too, maybe more with her brand of magic and I highly doubt a mabari can fight off an army of Templars.” Hawke sighed, closing his eyes. “I don't mean to be such a spoilsport, I'm sorry. I just—I might take a little personal shore-leave.” 

“Stop that!” Isabela glared down at Hawke, his eyes snapping open and Isabela felt him jump slightly. “You act as if I'm going to run off without you. I understand your worried, you're worrying me right now. Honestly, if I let you run off by yourself in this condition, your just going to get hurt.” 

“Isabela!?” 

“We're not that far out from the Waking Sea and the men wouldn't be opposed to more shore-leave anyway, I might even talk them into careening the big girl.” Isabela smirked, the sight of Hawke's wide eyes filling her with sweet satisfaction. 

“Isabela, you don't have—I mean I'll be—I love you.” Hawke's fingers weaved into the hair at back of her head and pulled down for a kiss. A heavy taste of grog and the thick smell of alcohol causing Isabela to pull away, disappointed and frowning. 

“Halfway drunk on swill and its not even noon.” Isabela shook her head, untangling from Hawke and fixing her captain's hat on head. Smirking again at the helpless, embarrassing look on Hawke's face. It was a moment Isabela would treasure forever, because Hawke was no casual drunk and this was a memory for the ages. “Get up!” 

“Aye, Captain! Sorry Captain!” Hawke scrambled up, fumbling in shame. 

“Be glad I'm feeling lenient on punishment today. Now off you go, we'll be sailing close-hauled and I don't want this ship capsizing cause I let the drunkard on board nod off.” Isabela snickered, watching Hawke stumble out the door in a hurry, lest he face the Captain's wrath. 

Isabela's good mood sobered as she looked at the letter left on the bed. She worried for Bethany's and Kitten's safety too. No one, but especially those two, deserved to be shackled and imprisoned. Still she knew she didn't have the same level of understanding for them that Hawke did, blighted, tenderhearted bastard.


	2. Show a Leg

Isabela sighed, pulling her knees closer to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. The sun barely tipping over the horizon and throwing soft light and shadows against the wall, all the candles in the cabin having burnt out overnight. 

It wasn't often she woke up before Hawke; but then again, if he had dipped back into the barrels like she suspected he did, he was probably nursing a hangover worse than the Void. She looked over at Hawke laying on the side of the bed against the hull, on his stomach. His red hair draped over his lean shoulders and across his handsome face, hiding away any indication if he was awake yet or not. 

Isabela smiled, resting her cheek against her knee as she watched him rise and fall with his breaths. She was pretty sure there wasn't a Maker, but if there was he did a damn fine job creating this beautiful man. The sex was amazing. All taunt muscles, hot breaths, heated skin, and wild looks, just thinking about was giving her shivers. For the first time in a long time, it wasn't just about sex though. There were those fickle little things, Hawke called emotions and they were actually kind of nice. Warm embraces, soft kisses, and loving words. Somehow these two things managed to become mutually inclusive and it both frustrated and endeared Isabela. 

“Captain Isabela Hawke.” The taste of it was sweet and came so easily, but still it sent her gut rocking like her ship. 

“Mmm, you talking to yourself again, Captain?” Hawke shifted a bit, moving closer to Isabela's side. 

“Well I wouldn't have to, if I had woken up to a hot breakfast and a sober lover.” Isabela smirked as she purposely raised her voice, watching Hawke's reddened eyes open and glare at her from beneath his hair. He sighed closing his eyes again and groaning. 

“Andraste's tits, since when does the Gale rock this much.” 

“You better not throw up in the bed.” 

“So glad to see you care, Isabela.” Hawke sighed, rolling onto his back. It was silent and comfortable for a few moments, before Hawke lurched upwards and clambered off the bed and out of the room. The sounds of the Lustful Gale creaking, waves crashing, Isabela laughing, and Hawke heaving creating a delightful lull in the cold morning air. 

Isabela grinned as she shrugged her wool coat on over her thin gown, grabbing Hawke a vest. She left the cabin, seeing a few of the crew bidding their time with a dice game further down the deck. She laughed again seeing Hawke lying flat on his back on the deck, the man was shirtless and looking miserable. 

“That swill just didn't set right with you, did it?” Isabela stood over Hawke, her grin still in face and her hands on her hips. 

“Make it stop rocking.” 

“It is a ship, sweetness. It was made to rock.” Isabela threw the vest down on Hawke, her lover grasping the cloth in one hand and throwing his other arm over his eyes. Another groan coming from him. 

“Thank you. I love you.” 

“Excellent. Then while you're down there, you can swab the deck. I want it spotless... and try not to throw up on the deck either.” 

“Isabela!” 

“It's Captain when I'm punishing you! I'll fetch the bucket for you, since I love you.” Isabela raised her voice, watching Hawke flinch from the volume. 

“I hate you...Captain.” Hawke glared up at her, Isabela snickered in response going to find one of the men to fill a bucket. 

Isabela divided her day between making sure the Gale stayed on the course to Cumberland and terrorizing Hawke, although by midday he was starting to look better. He even managed to make the deck shine, knowing that Isabela would make him do it again otherwise. 

It was a little after noon when land came into sight, the Gallows of Kirkwall visible from afar. Isabela found Hawke sitting atop a barrel on the deck, watching the foreboding monument. 

“Good times, right?” Isabela leaned over the railing, glancing at Hawke. 

“Andraste's great flaming ass, no! The best thing to come out of that place was meeting you and that's all in my books.” Hawke shook his head, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I lost more things in that blighted city than I gained.” 

“Hawke—I liked your bed.” 

“I liked it too, nice and sturdy. Remember that time Mother caught us, Maker that was bad, although it made me want to see if I could get all of Kirkwall to hear the headboard banging.” 

“I swear I never expected your mother to be as calm as she was.” Isabela smiled, remembering the surprise she had when Leandra hadn't chased off like the utter slattern she was. Not to say she hadn't noticed the disapproving looks, Leandra wouldn't have been a good mother without them. 

“Yeah, well she always said I was old enough to make my own decisions and mistakes. Besides that was probably easier to handle than when she found me in the shed buried balls deep in Barlin's son, back in Lothering. There was promise for continuing the Amell Lineage with you.” 

“Buried deep in Barlin's son? Why have I not heard this story?” Isabela smiled again, turning to look at Hawke. The far off look in his eyes disappearing as he looked at her with his own smile. 

“I don't think I've told you about too many of my old conquests. I got around Bela, you know that.” 

“Mmhm.” A comfortable silence surrounded them, Isabela stared at Hawke while he went back to staring at the walls in the distance. 

“I miss, Mother.” Hawke glanced over at Isabela, his eyes looking more reflective than sad. 

“I—I wish I could have known her better.” 

“She thought you were decent, she would've approved—eventually. We talked about it a bit once, she said she understood that love came from the strangest places. She just wanted me to be happy and that—never mind.” Hawke suddenly looked away, staring off into the sea. 

“Hawke? What'd she say?” It was a strange hesitation, one she'd never seen from him. 

“Well—um.” Hawke rubbed the back of his neck, giving Isabela a quick glance before staring out at the sea again. “She said we'd have attractive children, she couldn't wait to have adorable grandchildren to dote upon... I probably should have said something, but I—I just decided to let her have that.” 

Isabela was amused by the blush spreading along Hawke's face and down his neck; despite how the thought of children churned her stomach, like the thought she had this morning had done. A wife and a mother, Isabela did not make. At least she thought she didn't, Hawke did all kinds of crazy things to her head though and she found herself entertaining ideas that were not supposed to be there. 

“Did I do the right thing?” Hawke's question brought Isabela from her thoughts and she blinked at him. 

“What? With your mother?” Isabela watched and worried a bit as Hawke looked down and clenched his hands. 

“No—I mean that is probably part of it, but I meant in Kirkwall. Of course I did it for Bethany, to lose her after everything else—I couldn't do it. But I did it for other reasons too, I wanted to save as many as I could, no one deserves to be locked away. Not Bethany or Anders or Merrill or even Fenris—not you.” Hawke looked up, a fire burning in his eyes that Isabela often from him saw in the middle of combat. “Maybe it is just me being selfish, wanting to see my friends be free. Wanting to see Beth go onto to marry who ever she wishes and have swarms of children and not worry that they'll be taken away if every single one of them turns out to be a mage.” Hawke sighed, resting his head in his hand. Isabela walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him. He shifted before completely burying his face into her bosom, his hands resting on her hips. 

“Really Hawke?” Isabela could help but smile, moving her arms around his neck. 

“They're so soft and they make me feel better.” 

“Maker's breath. They are delightful though, aren't they?” Isabela twirled a strand of Hawke's hair, lightly tugging on it and pulling a small whine from the back of his throat. Hawke nuzzled at Isabela's breast and nipped at the swells through her tunic. 

“Captain. Sam was want'n to discuss where we'll be careen—Am I interrupt'n?” Rawley rubbed the back of his head, jumping as he received a glare from Isabela and heard Hawke growl. 

“Yes!” The word coming from both of the Captain and her cabin boy. 

“Oh, uh...” 

“Dammit, Rawley. Sam wants the location to careen the Gale?” Hawke removed himself from Isabela, standing up and glaring at the man. 

”Aye.” Rawley looked about ready to shit himself and Isabela was actually incredibly pleased, Hawke taking lead adding to the small swell of curling heat in her stomach. 

“I swear...” Hawke sighed and ran his hand through his hair, before pulling it back and tying with the band around his wrist. “I'm going to go show that bastard where he can careen the ship, right up his damn--” 

“That sounds like a lot of frustration there, sweetness.” Isabela sashayed past Hawke, adoring the way his eyes swept over her. Isabela smirked before going off to find Sam and give him a proper heading. 

“So, Hawke—the Captain's been--” 

“Finish the sentence, Rawley and you're going over the side of the ship. Rules be damned.”


	3. Sink Me

Isabela smiled, draped over her favorite chair in the cabin as usual. Her captain's hat settled loosely over her eyes as she listened to Hawke moved around the cabin, her grin widened as she heard his footsteps stop in front of her. 

Her hat was lifted off her head, Hawke looking down at her expectantly. 

“You going into Cumberland, looking like...” 

“A slattern, a harlot, a naughty wench wanting to be utterly punished?” Isabela smirked, settling further into her chair. 

“A pirate. This is Cumberland, the richest port city along the Waking Sea, looking like a pirate is typically the last thing you want to do.” 

“Mmm, but we can't all pull of being as classy and handsome as you, Serrah Amell.” Isabela grinned as Hawke looked away with a blush. 

Hawke did pull off the dashing noble well, especially in his long clothes. Isabela admired the way his white undershirt hugged his lithe body, the vest slimming him more and emphasizing his wide chest, and the way his soft leather breeches hugged him just right. Hawke had shared with her he always hated being a leader and a noble, she had to admit though, he fit it so well. 

“Isabela, I'd rather not fight my way through Cumberland. Especially with the ship careened.” Hawke sighed, pulling his neatly combed hair back into a proper tail with a band. 

“Alright you win, dress me.” Isabela reached out towards Hawke, chuckling when he swooped down and picked her up with another sigh. 

“I swear, I spoil you Captain.” Hawke carefully sat Isabela on the bed as he went digging through the dresser at the end of it. 

“As it should be, boy.” Isabela leaned back, watching Hawke pick and choose through the garments they had collected. 

Eventually Hawke managed to find an outfit that suited their needs, tossing them onto the bed as he moved back over the Isabela. Isabela smirked as Hawke dropped to his knees before her. 

“Boot, Captain.” Hawke expectantly held out his hand, Isabela lifting her leg and placing it in his grasp. Hawke worked her foot loose, slowly pulling her tall boot down and off. He placed a soft kiss on the top of her foot before he gently set it down, Isabela held her other boot out for him. Hawke leaned further over placing a kiss along the part of her inner thigh just above the rim of her boot, his fingers slipping under the leather and sliding against her skin. 

Isabela shivered, feeling Hawke leisurely follow the trail his fingers made as he slipped her boot off, leaving tender kisses along her thigh and down to her knee. The delicious sight of it, Hawke on his knees worshiping her and glancing up at her like a peasant to a queen causing her to quiver more. Isabela sighed reaching out, only for the sigh to become a disappointed whine when Hawke suddenly pulled entirely away and caught her hand in a strong, but careful grasp. 

“Not the hair, Isabela.” 

“Spoilsport.” 

Hawke hummed, dropped her hand, and finished pulling off her boot, he placed both of them on the other side of the bed beside her. Isabela smiled again as he stood, pausing halfway to wrap his arms around her and pull her up with him. 

Her bandanna was immediately pulled off and tossed with her boots, and Hawke combed his fingers through her hair. Carefully he worked a few tangles out, massaging his fingers through the incredibly stubborn knots. His eyes completely focused on his work, while his breaths just barely caressed Isabela's lips. 

“Mmm, I feel as if I could just melt.” Isabela leaned more into Hawke's chest, surrounding herself in the scent of sea salt and soap. She could feel Hawke running his hands almost flawlessly through her hair, it finally meeting the minimum requirement of refined. She nuzzled into his neck as his hands slipped down to her waist and pulled her close for a moment, relishing in the contact. 

Hawke sighed for a moment, turning his head to place a kiss on her cheek before pulling her away and her improvised belt following his smooth grasp. He dropped the blue cloth onto the bed and his hands drifted to the ties on her corset, his agile hands pulling each cord apart like a lock. Isabela grinned as she was reminded how those fingers could pull her apart just the same. The corset effortlessly slid off and Hawke added it to the growing pile of Isabela's discarded clothes. 

His hands wandered to her arms, Isabela's anticipation growing with every touch Hawke bestowed upon her. Hawke's nimble hands worked at the multiple belts on her gloves, the pieces of cloth removed with the same ease as her corset and set in the same place. 

Isabela could feel the low heat as Hawke continued to tease the rest of her armor off, pressing lingering kisses along her skin as he worked up both her arms. His skin gliding across her own and cooling the warmth pooling beneath her own, creating a delectable contrast. Hawke paused, first to place a kiss along the serpent tattoo on her left forearm and then again at the red piece of cloth, the promise they had made long ago. Hawke carefully removed the cloth, placing it in the pile of her new clothes. 

Next Hawke moved on to unlacing Isabela's tunic, taking the time to unlace every cord and drawing out the process. 

This was fun and new, Hawke having been a good cabin boy before and dressing her when she wanted to be spoiled, but never had he done it with such a reverence. Each soft caress accompanied by a lingering kiss and a smothering look, she wanted to help undress Hawke and soil those prim, proper noble clothes he was wearing. Maker, did she want to rip and break him. 

A soft mewl came from Isabela as her mind spiraled downwards, taking a wave of heat with it. She was barely able to hold back from twisting her fingers in Hawke's silken hair and tugging hard, dear Maker, the sounds he would make. Isabela's fingers twitched as she watched Hawke's face completely focused on the laces, a smirk coming to her face and her hand shot up with roguish speed. 

Isabela let out a sharp noise as she was pinned to the bed, a grin growing on her face as Hawke held her down with a stern look. 

“Isabela. I said no.” 

“Hawke!” Isabela whined, still smirking and rubbed her body upwards. A feeling of accomplishment sweep over her as Hawke closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, Isabela doing it again. Hawke's eyes slowly opened, swirling with a cloudy, liquid gold. His jaw still locked as he glared down at Isabela. 

“Isabela.” 

“Yes, sweetness?” 

“Stop.” 

“Now where is the fun in that?” Isabela's grin widened, feeling Hawke's grip tighten around her wrists as she rolled up again. A purr coming from her as she felt Hawke hardening through his trousers. 

“I'm serious, Bela. Not now.” Every part of Hawke was restrained and trembling, a sight Isabela drank in with pride. 

“I'll make you a promise, Hawke. I'll be good now, but you let me do the punishing later.” 

“Isabela--” 

“I know, no gags.” Isabela leaned up her grin softening into a smile, Hawke cautiously watched her for a second before bending down and meeting her for an impassioned kiss on the lips. His hands slipping her loose smock off her shoulders and down her arms, his touch burning into her skin again. Isabela managed to keep still though, her hands still laying up by her head. Hawke pulled away from the kiss and sat back on his knees on the bed, lifting her up and sliding the cloth further down. The fresh sea air prickling across her skin and brushing along her bare breasts, Hawke casually teasing her nipples with his thumbs as he swept the fabric down over them, his soft touch moving down her stomach and causing her muscles to tighten and jump under his fingers. Hawke finally lifted up her hips, cupping and leaning her against him as he worked the last piece of clothing down her thighs and off her legs. 

Isabela was left in only her gold jewelry and her smalls, slightly shivering from the cool air and Hawke's attentiveness. Hawke gaze traveled over Isabela, his eyes still swimming with darkness. Every inch of her smooth, dark skin stirring with heat, but prickling with goosebumps. 

Hawke's attention finally shifted to back to the task at hand and he leaned over to grab a piece of new clothing for Isabela, picking up a white corselette with frill around the neckline. 

Once again Hawke pulled Isabela to her feet, turning her around with her back to him. Hawke draped the corselette over Isabela, adjusting the bustier. Isabela grinned as Hawke outright flicked her rings and copped a feel through the top, gently massaging her breasts through the top. The silken cloth rubbing against her sensitive skin and pulling against her piercings, quickly hardening the buds of her breasts and pulling a low noise from her throat. Hawke's hands continued down her front and smoothing out the corset before disappearing behind her. She could feel the cloth tighten as he laced, her breasts being pushed up and accentuated. The garment hugging her figure and emphasizing her assets, making her feel incredibly sexy. 

Next Hawke presented Isabela with a long, black skirt, his arms on either side of her and dropped low to allow her to step into it, which she did. His fingertips pulling the skirt up and over her hips, his fingers and the velvet cloth running gently across her. The touches tingling against her and adding more prickling heat. Hawke allowed Isabela to tighten the waist of the skirt herself and she pulled it tight around her slimmed, restricted waist, as he reached over and grabbed another long piece of cloth, a red over-skirt Hawke also draped around Isabela's waist. 

“All done?” 

“Almost.” Hawke buried his face into Isabela's neck from behind, smiling against her as he produced the special, small, red cloth. His quick fingers wrapping it around Isabela's wrist and lightly tightening. His fingers dropping down and lacing with Isabela's. “Till the sea takes us.” 

“And may we meet again in her depths.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They'll actually be in Cumberland next chapter, I promise. This pairing just needs a lot of nonsexual-ish romance, considering how many kink prompts there are with them (there is a serious lack of fluff prompts for this pairing, which is not really a bad thing).
> 
>  **Rant-ish side note:** The truth is, I actually have no idea what the tattoo on Isabela's forearm is actually supposed to represent; which I think technically it was supposed to be a bracelet, but due to the mapping in the game it looks a lot more like a tattoo. Then again, apparently some people don't even realize she has something there.


	4. Blow the Man Down

Isabela sauntered along beside Hawke, the Lustful Gale careened farther down the beach in a bay as the two of them walked down the docks. Playing the roles of passengers leaving one of the docked ships, to forgo the docking authority. Isabela ran her fingertips against the hulls of the ships they passed, cataloging each one and their cargo as only a pirate could. 

“There a some real beauties here, Hawke.” 

“I didn't realize we were in the market for a new one.” 

“Nah, the Lustful Gale is a beaut that will last a long while with proper care, Castille has quality tastes after all.” Isabela smiled, remembering the story of how she got her ship. It was all very diplomatic, what with the disapproval of a certain guardswoman, bragging rights, and Hawke's blessing. 

“Halt there.” 

Isabela and Hawke stopped before a guard, a lanky man who fingered his broadsword as if readying for a fight. Isabela could see a tension rising in Hawke's shoulders and she leaned into his side, her arms wrapping around his. He glanced over at her, a small smile coming to his face and Isabela felt him relax a little. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“I don't believe I saw you two docks, what ship might you be from?” 

“The Lady's Gem.” Isabela smiled sweetly as the guard looked over at her, his dark eyes lingering on her with a hungry gaze. Her skin crawled under his gaze and she forced the urge to punch the bastard in the face, down. 

“I didn't think it was a passenger ship.” The guard eyes finally moving up and focusing on Isabela's face. 

“It's not, it's a lyrium runner. But, Rino and my dear husband here go way back. Merchants of the same cloth, you know how it is.” Isabela leaned closer to Hawke and put on a show she knew well, squeezing his arm tighter. 

“Your wife is a chatty little thing, ain't she. You'd think she was the one in charge.” The guard looked back at Hawke, expectantly and Hawke answered with a smirk. 

“Aye, you might think that, but you, my good sir have obviously never been married. Especially to a woman who has to handle herself on a boat full of men.” 

“Mmm, handle a boat of men, huh. You'd be right.” The guard glanced over Isabela again with a sinister, suggestive look, Isabela's grasp on Hawke tightening to stop her from driving her knife in between his ribs... or his legs “Although, if I can find me a spit-fire woman like that, I'd think about hooking up the ball and chain.” 

“I can show you what to do with your balls and a ch--” 

“Now is not the best time to try peddling our wares, dear. I sure Rino is wanting for us to catch up.” 

Isabela felt herself tremble in anger, as Hawke lead them easily past the guard. Hawke going as far as to offer the bastard a 'good day', Isabela letting go of Hawke and glaring over her shoulder at guard's back. 

“You should have let me stab him.” 

“If you go back, go for his balls.” Hawke kept walking, his face frighteningly neutral. Isabela was highly amused by the venom in his voice, his rage stoking her interest again. 

“Oh, so he rubbed you the wrong way too?” 

“He rubbed me the wrong way the instant he decided her wanted to rub my Captain the wrong way.” 

“Maker, sweetness. You almost sounded possessive there for a moment.” Isabela snickered as a blush spread over Hawke's face. 

Hawke continued into Cumberland, the manors surrounding them putting them in the noble district. Each house was made of rare, expensive stone, each unique and hand carved. There were servants running in and out of houses, going out for errands or doing yard work. Every now and then Isabela caught sight of a pair of noblewomen sharing tea and talking about which fashions were the latest hits in Orlais and Starkhaven. Isabela wished it would start raining, with as high as the women held their noses they would probably drown. She couldn't ever remember Hawke or his mother being that conceded. 

Still some mad part of her mind brought up images of her as Lady Isabela Hawke, wearing fine silks and soft satins, causing the snooty noblewomen to faint with her sailor's tongue, plundering the beds of the most eligible nobles with Hawke by her side. Actually none of that sounded so bad, it could almost be fun. Then again, the cushion life of a noble would drive her up the wall, she liked the grit and labor of running a ship. 

“So, Hawke. Any ideas of where to find your sister and Kitten.” Isabela tried to distract herself, plucking a shiny, silver saucer from a table she passed by and slipping it into the fold of her overskirt. 

“The letter said somewhere outside Cumberland, but checking the tavern for rumors couldn't hurt. However—we should probably pick up some more weapons.” Hawke slowed a bit, eventually ducking into an alley between two mansions. He pulled Isabela in after him, pressing her against the wall. 

“Straight to it then?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” Hawke grinned and Isabela matched it, her grin widening as Hawke nestled into her neck and his hands pulled up her skirt. Her own hands refraining from him running through his hair, instead grabbing onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands dipping beneath the long fabric as he nipped at her pulse and she sighed. Isabela let out a small moan as she felt Hawke's fingertips slip along the inside of her thighs, stroking close to her heat. 

“Oi, you two there!” 

Isabela looked over Hawke's shoulder, smirking at the guard who wandered into the alley. This one was young, actually a bit attractive, and adorably flustered. What a shame. 

“Are you just going to watch?” Isabela smirk widened as the guard's mouth dropped open and his face turn redder, she felt Hawke's fingernails glide and catch along her thighs. Hawke's own smirk appearing and his hand grasped tighter. 

“Isabela?” 

“Should have been the bastard from before.” 

“I agree.” 

There was the sound of metal slicing through flesh followed by a thud, Hawke pulled the second knife out of the other small sheath strapped to Isabela's thigh and handed it to her. Isabela took it and moved the buckles on the sheaths so they were on the outside of her thighs, carefully sheathing the knife again. She fixed her skirts and rolling one side of them up for better movement and easy access to the blades. She looked up to see Hawke hide the dead body of the guard behind a stack of barrels, pulling the other knife from the guard's neck and wiping the blood away on the guard's clothes. He looted the body for gold and the guard's two daggers, Hawke attaching the holster and blades around his waist. 

“ _Let's hide them under my skirt, you get a chance to feel me up, we can smuggle them onto dock, and then we can just jump a guard for weapons_. Maker, why did I even agree to that?” Hawke sighed, walking back over to Isabela and handing her back her first knife. 

“It was a good idea and it worked, they rarely ever check between the thighs. Besides, I had you as soon as I promised you'd be between my legs, because sweetness, you're so damn wound up.” Isabela smirked, twirling her knife. 

Hawke reddened again and shook his head, leaving the alley with Isabela close behind.


	5. The Captain's Wench

It was starting to get dark by the time the two of them reached the tavern. The tavern was a welcome sight, one Isabela would never grow tired of. The soft glow of warmth of the inside showing through the windows, the sounds of merriment carrying through the air, the sign, and the occasional, well-dressed drunk stumbling out of the entrance. 

Hawke opened the door for her and Isabela sauntered in, brushing against him as she passed and smirks appearing on both of their faces. Isabela settled into the familiar setting, strolling past singing drunks, sober sailors, and a few sods who lost control of the eyes and mouths as she went by. She leaned on the bar, setting a few sovereigns in front of her. The gruff man beside her pushing them back to her, she looked at him in amusement and he winked. 

“Oi, Gael, get the lady a drink.” The man smirked, going back to nursing his own drink. 

“That's real sweet, but I'm not sure my husband would approve.” Isabela smirked back, watching the man pause and look over his shoulder, probably trying to pinpoint her husband. 

“Eh, it is just a drink from a gentleman, ain't nothing wrong with that, right?” The man looked at her again, his eyes drifting down a bit before he turned back to his mug. 

“No I suppose not.” 

The bartender rolled his eyes and set Isabela up with a crystal mug of ale. The mug all glistening and fancy, Isabela taking the time to appreciate the cut and beauty of it. 

“I like these mugs, very pretty.” 

“Mhm, keeps pirates away.” 

“Pirates, eh? Here in Cumberland?” Isabela smirked, smoothly turning around to see Hawke joining in on a game of Wicked Grace. She leaned back on the counter, watching his nimble hands pluck cards out as he shuffled the deck. 

“Nah, docks are locked down tight. The mug keeps out recruiters though. Ain't no pirate foolish enough to try slip something, including a wage, into a crystal mug.” 

“I see, I suppose a clear mug would make hiding a coin in the bottom hard.” Isabela smirked, lifting the mug into the air and looking at the bottom of it. 

“So how are they made?” Isabela set the mug down, still watching Hawke play. Her mind working around a little something for Hawke's punishment later, after they had made sure Kitten and Sunshine were safe. 

“It's a secret, but the crystal is mined naturally.” 

“Can other things be carved from it? Or just mugs?” Isabela grin widened. 

“I've seen other things come from it, why?” 

Isabela turned around and crooked finger at the bartender, the man leaning over and Isabela explained a few things in his ear. Embellishing it with a few lies and using her hands to explain a few _details_. Isabela leaned back again and pulled out a purse of coin. 

“Think it would work and be safe?” 

“Aye, I've seen a few of them passed around and this stuff is sturdy enough for it.” The bartender nodded and took Isabela's purse, before picking up a mug to clean. “I'll see if I can't get one of the boys to pick what you need up and you can just swing by before you leave Cumberland.” 

“Sounds delightful, I can't wait.” Isabela took a sip of her drink, so much better than the best she had on the Gale. 

“So, is that all that brings a lass like you around here?” 

“Not entirely, I'm here with my husband. We're looking for a healer, preferably easy to _afford_.” 

The bartender paused and sent Isabela a look, he leaned on the bar and sat the mug in hand down. 

“What for?” 

“We've been looking to have a child. Poor sod needs a little... help.” 

“Sounds like it, if you're needing what you paid for. You're probably better off remarried.” 

“Ah, but money and reputation is not something so easily found and... remarried.” 

“Hmm, I suppose not. Well... you didn't hear it from me, but there are two healers, unsanctioned and will help almost anyone. A Dalish and a human woman, just outside town in the forest. 

“That does sound quite promising, excuse me.” Isabela downed the rest of her drink, before strutting her way over to Hawke. She plopped herself down in his lap with another smirk, all the men's eyes focusing on her. Her smirk growing wider as she took in their distracted stares and Hawke's winning hand. 

“Hello there, my beautiful goddess of the sea.” Hawke chuckled and wrapped his arm around Isabela's waist. Isabela rolled her eyes, but settled further into his grasp. 

“Oi, Amell. Ya, might want to fold. with this hand I got, that little lady of yours is going be sitting in between my legs all night long.” One of the men prodded, the table snickering at the seemingly clever bastard. 

“Careful Monty, or you ain't going to have anything sitting between you legs for the rest of your life.” Hawke smirked, raising his hand. 

“That a threat.” The man obviously offended, while the rest of the men watched silently. 

“Nah, it's a warning. My wife will have you on your back, riding your face while some elf rides your ass. She ain't some whore who will lie there and take it, she's very demanding.” Hawke shook his head, sighing and no doubt remembering that very experience. 

“That some kind of metaphor.” One of the other men scratched his beard, laying his cards down as he folded. 

“Sure why not, a metaphor for how the love of my life will ride your ass and then use you as one.” 

The entire table fell silent and Isabela's smirk grew, she felt the need to prove Hawke's words. 

“You do know me so well, dear husband.” Isabela leaned down and kissed Hawke, her hand holding his chin while she plundered his mouth with her tongue. The sweet taste of decent ale was refreshing and mingled well with the fruit taste of Hawke, creating something exotic and delicious. She moaned, moving so she was straddling Hawke and Hawke's hand grabbed her ass shifting her further in his lap. Her lips dropping to press a kiss to his jaw. 

“Mmm, I'm playing Bela.” 

“Aw, but I want to play.” 

“I know, later Bela. Remember.” 

“Mmm, I do now.” Isabela smirked against Hawke's neck, thinking about her surprise and then fading into a smile when she remembered what the bartender said about the healers. Her attention returning to the table and the game, all the men watching her and struggling between lust and disgust. 

Finally the cocky bastard from before and Hawke were the only two players left, when the Angel of Death played. The bastard throwing down a pair of two daggers and two songs with a smug smile. 

“Sorry Amell, looks like you'll be sleeping in the gutters tonight.” 

“Now wait a bit, our bed has definitely seen better days, but a gutter? I don't think it's been that awful quite yet.” Hawke shook his head, not even bothering to hide his smile as he threw down the set of four knights he had been holding to. The man's grin falling away and he let out a curse. 

“Who do you think you are!” 

“The winner.” 

“Blighting noblemen comes in here with some whore, only he turns out to be the whore.” 

“Yes, but he is such a good whore.” Isabela smirked as all eyes turned to her. Her eyes drifting to Hawke. “He makes the best sounds, I'm sure even you'd enjoy him.” 

She smirked, using her fingers to pluck his mouth open and she slid them inside. Watching as Hawke focused on her and only her as he sucked on them. Her other hand wandering down and rubbing him through his fine trousers, a groan slipping from around her fingers as his eyes slid shut. 

“My perfect, depraved whore.” Isabela smirk widened as she glanced behind her, almost all the women and a good amount of the men blushing and watching Hawke be the perfect little whore that Isabela taught him to be. Isabela slipped her fingers out with a pop, still watching as several onlookers trembled “Come now my lovely husband, how about we leave?” 

Hawke opened his eyes, the dark yellow dazed as he nodded. Slowly gathering up his won gold, before following Isabela out and leaving a tavern of frustrated, flustered townspeople. 

“We really need to unwind you Hawke, your so...tight.” Isabela snickered as she walked beside Hawke, the man mussing his own hair as he ran his fingers through it. A sigh falling from his lips and he made no protest. 

“Isabela, when we are finished here. Fuck me hard.” 

“With pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realized I just had this sitting around gathering virtual dust. I really haven't forgot my favorite pirates, just haven't had time for them :C


End file.
